How to Train Your Pet
by chickenswhoplaygolf
Summary: Please send me your comments, suggestions and tips on my Dr. Heiter fanfiction stories and chapters. Just be nice about it. Thank you. Dr. Josef Heiter brings home a few surprises, including one non-human. It's a lot of work training your dogs-especially if you have five of them. An on-going story. Rated M for sexuality, BDSM-esque content, sadistic moments, torture, and violence.
1. He's a Dogman: Ch 1

"Go that way," Heiter said, pointing to Katsuro, but somehow the leash caught around a branch and nearly

tripped Dr. Heiter. Heiter jerked the leash and the photo of 3-hund fell from his hand right into a puddle.

Heiter struck Katsuro with his palm. But then he stroked him softly.

"Good Dog."

"I have zee negatives," Heiter said to himself.

Heiter heard something rustling nearby and crouched down. Then it moved and came into sight. It was a dog. A

German shepherd. A filthy one. It was a male, obviously a stray. Heiter stared at it for several long minutes.

"Hund..." Heiter whispered.

"Stay!" he told the Centipede, tying them to a tree. He grabbed the tranquilizer.

He aimed and shot. The dog fell over on the muddy ground.

Dr. Heiter carried the dog back to the house, with the Centipede's leash wrapped around his wrist. He put the

Centipede back in the kennel and took the shepherd to the bathroom. He washed the dog in the bathtub, scrubbing

its thick, matted fur with shampoo.

He sat in the livingroom watching for it to wake up; its eyes fluttered, a sign it would soon enter consciousness.

Then its eyes opened and its head lifted up.

"Gooood," he crooned.

The dog turned its neck slowly, baring its teeth.

Heiter chose to drive quite a ways to a generic grocery-store on the far end of town in Eastern Germany.

Heiter walked down the pet isle and grabbed a bag of generic dog kibble and dog biscuits. Then he went down the

personal care isle, dropping a package of adult diapers into his cart. Several people glanced up as he went by, as if

they wondered who this strange man was wore a Nazi-era labcoat and had dark shades pulled down over his eyes.

The clerk gave him a passing smirk as she scanned the diapers but otherwise made no mention of his peculiar

purchase. Heiter walked out to the parking lot, putting the bag of dogfood and diapers in the back of the Mercedes,

then he got in and closed the door. The shepherd still sat in the front passenger seat tied securely with a leash and

looking very nervous.

An annoyingly cheery looking woman who stood by the car next to him approached Heiter's partially rolled-down

window.

"What a beautiful dog, is he a pure-breed?" She stared at the large wolf-like dog.

Heiter stared at her with an unblinking expression through his dark shades, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Do you have any others?" she said in German.

Dr. Heiter began to seethe with anger; how many questions does she plan on asking?

"Five, " he anwered abruptly.

"Oh my."

"What do you-" she started again, but Heiter cut her off.

"Goodbye." Heiter silently moved a finger over to the door panel without looking down and the window began

sliding up. The woman stared at him through the glass, as if she couldn't believe a person could be so rude.

Heiter started the engine, backing out of the parking space. He drove past the grocery store, taking a back alley

through an older-looking neighborhood. The neighborhood looked empty, except, wait-what was that? Yes. It was a

person, a girl in front of a bar hunched over her knees, her blonde hair fell over eyes so that you couldn't really see

her face. Heiter slowed down and backed the car up, letting it idle. The girl was crying. She looked up through

watery eyes and Dr. Heiter stared at her for a few minutes. She doesn't exactly look like the bar type, Dr. Heiter

thought. Hieter shrugged the thought aside. She will do. Anyhow, he had to act now before she decided to get up

and walk away.

Dr. Heiter backed the car up some more, pulling onto the side street and rolled down the window.

"Pouvez-vous m'aider à satisfaire?" she sobbed. Heiter stared at her through the window, feeling perplexed but

also excited. He understood a bit of French-enough to understand that she needed help. It didn't matter though.

What mattered was how he was going to get her in the car. Heiter rolled the window down further.

"Do you want a ride?" he asked in German, gesturing for her to get in.

She mumbled something else in French then stood up. She hesitated for a moment, as if she wasn't sure that she

should get in. Heiter slipped a syringe into his shirt pocket. He slipped out of his white physician's coat, getting out

of the car. He walked around to the side, opening the back door for her. As she climbed in, he quietly and quietly slid

the syringe out, sticking it in her neck. She collapsed on the seat, her hair falling in waves over her forehead. The

purse fell out of her hands and Heiter grabbed it. He slammed the door, then got in the driver's seat and tossed the

purse on the floor under the passenger's side. The shephard jumped nervously.

A familiar car was heard pulling up to the house. They knew it was the doctor's car; they heard it many times before.

Heiter first brought the dog into the house, then he carried the girl inside, laying her on the couch.

He set the box of doggy biscuits on the kitchen counter and opened a cupboard, pouring some wine. He grabbed

the box of biscuits, walking to the couch and sat down, staring at the dog.

"Vant a biscuit, dogg?" Heiter in English in a deep, low tone but with a strong German accent.

He spoke English as well as his native German language.

The huge brown-and-tan dog turned to look at him; its long tongue flicked out, licking its chops.

He reached out to grab the box of dog biscuits on the coffee table and pulled one out, extending his hand.

The dog's nose quivered. It made a few steps forward then jerked back.

"Come onnnn," Heiter teased.

When the shepherd was in reach of Heiter, he hooked his fingers through the collar; the dog tried to yank

back, snarling. Heiter's jaw set and his eyes narrowed.

Heiter grabbed hold of the scruff of his neck, squeezing it tightly, then releasing a little.

"That's iiiiiit..." Heiter bent down, meeting the dog's gaze with his own. Heiter waved the biscuit in front of its nose.

The jowls opened and it grabbed the biscuit in its teeth, swallowing it in one bite.

"Tough son-of-ahhh-beeech...buttt not as tuff as mee," he growled in the dog's ear.


	2. Dogbones and Diapers: Ch 2

Dogbones and Diapers CH 2 of How to Train Your Pet

Heiter closed and locked the French doors to the hallway and glanced over at the girl still drugged on the couch.

Dr. Heiter busied himself in the kitchen. Heiter brought his lunch to the kitchen table and sat down to eat it leisurely,

not caring that his Centipede had not had anything to eat yet.

Halfway through his meal, he heard a moan from the living room. He got up quickly and moved towards the couch.

She was still delirious from the drug but Heiter forced her to wake.

"Good gurrrl," She lifted her head up groggily. He reached into the box of dog biscuits.

"Eat your doggy treat like a good gurl, come on," Heiter coaxed, slipping a broken chunk into her slack mouth. He

bent over the couch to glare at her in the face.

"Gooood," he brushed his hand along the side of her face, as if to praise her.

"mmmm, another vun?" Heiter wetted his lips, moving the biscuit towards her mouth.

He waved the treat in front of her face, holding her jaw in his other hand. As she struggled to gain a hold on her

consciousness, she twisted away instinctively from his prying fingers._ Who the hell is this crazy German man forcing _

_me to eat dog biscuits, and why does he look like a Nazi doctor?_

"It tastes good, see?" He took one hand and started to pry her lips open again, pushing the biscuit in with the

other. She crunched down on the biscuit distastefully, but soon realized what it was. She tried to spit it out, which

only half worked as she only managed to deposit a wad of it mixed with a collection of saliva that dribbled over her

lips and chin.

"Eat! Eat the biscuit!" Heiter's face was red.

Dr. Heiter pushed her head back onto the couch and got up, closing the French doors behind him.

She started looking for her purse, but it didn't seem to be anywhere. She didn't remember getting in the car and

now she appeared to be in the house of a strange and demented man. Maybe she was dreaming. Her first thought

was to figure a way out or find something to defend herself with.

He had not gone far, even so, he knew she wouldn't have much of a chance to escape in her condition.

He had removed anything in the living room within reach heavy enough to be used as a weapon (lamps included)

and had locked all the doors.

Her first instinct was to escape, but she didn't want to spend too much time on this in case Heiter returned soon

and found her. _This man could be anybody-a serial killer, rapist. _

She allowed herself a few minutes to collect her thoughts, then attempted to stand up. She was still very dizzy but

used her hands and the couch to keep from falling over. _There's the kitchen-maybe I can find something to use-a _

_knife? _She reached the kitchen floor and began opening the cabinets and drawers, turning her head to the side to

listen for anyone. She clumsily ran her hands through the drawers but found nothing she could use; Heiter had

removed all knives and forks.

She grabbed the counter to keep from losing her balance but her arm caught a wine glass and it slid across the

counter, shattering on the floor. The French doors were opening now and Dr. Heiter was moving stealthily towards

the kitchen. She hunched down, ready to make a run for it-anywhere. She reached down and grabbed a small sliver

of glass, hiding it in her palm. Dr. Heiter was over her in an instant, grabbing her arms and holding them tightly.

"Stupid Girl!" he shouted in English and glanced at the broken wine glass.

"How dare you sneak into zeee kitchen and destroy my materials!"

This one would be tough, he could tell. As feisty as Lindsay._  
_

He opened a cabinet door with one hand while he held her arms with the other, then he bound her hands with a

zip-tie. She felt the small piece of glass pressing into her fist as he tied them together. She struggled feebishly to

escape his incredibly strong grasp. Dr. Heiter saw the piece of glass sticking out from her fist and tried to take it

from her; she made a jerking motion with her body, slicing Dr. Heiter's hand.

"Fuck!" Dr. Heiter cursed, jerking back as blood started to dripping from his finger. She managed to twist away from

him. He didn't have any time to nurse his wounds, he had to stop the girl from getting down the hallway. He had

just remembered that he may or may not have locked the door down the hallway earlier when he came back inside

from digging in the backyard. Now he was cursing himself for it. She would pay for her trouble now, if he caught her.

He was angry for allowing himself to let her escape, certainly he didn't want a repeat of Lindsay.

She ran around the kitchen island counter and made a run for the French doors. There was a hallway to the right.

There was a closed door on her right; she quickly grabbed the doorknob but it felt locked. She started running

again, following the hallway, hoping there would be another door. Yes! A doorway to outside-on the left. She

grabbed the knob, giving it a hard turn and the door swung open.

Dr. Heiter heard the door open, cursing again. He reached the entry and saw her: she was running across the lawn

now and heading for the woods. He had longer legs, but for her diminutive size, she was surprisingly fast.

She heard footsteps behind her and immediately a flood of adrenaline rushed through her body. She glanced back

and saw the man in the white labcoat a few yards behind her, coming after her, but in doing so, she lost her

balance, crashing to the ground. She landed on a clump of branches. That smarted. She tried to make a quick

Scramble across the leaves to hide behind a clump of trees. The piece of glass was now gone-lost in the of leaves

when she had tripped.

Her breathe caught, the warm steam from her mouth puffed out in short bursts, meeting with the cold dampness of

the woods as she tried to hold still, acting as inconspicuous as possible.

Dr. Heiter began walking towards her softly but briskly. Before she could get up again, she felt Dr. Heiter's strong

hands take hold of her arms.

"You aren't going ANYWHERE!" Heiter shouted, breathing slightly. His eyes flashed angrily.

Dr. Heiter grabbed a snapped branch from the ground, whipping her swiftly and mercilessly with it. She couldn't lie

to herself-it hurt, each time the branch was brought down it stung-it felt unbearable. She cried and tried to hold

back the yelps that were unconsciously emitted from her mouth. She endured the punishment for what felt like

several long minutes but it was probably shorter than that. Dr. Heiter had struck her not more than about ten times

but it felt like many more and it soon caused welts to form on the lower part of her back, that would later turn into

painful bruises.

DR. Heiter was not afraid to cause pain, he did not care, though he was careful not to over-do it since he wanted his

victims to be reasonably healthy; free from mortal injuries or infections. It was not anger specifically that drove him

to inflict punishment, although he felt anger; rather it was the lack of sympathy, and he also derived some

pleasure(emotional as well as physical) from doing so, as well.

This time he wouldn't let her get away. He took hold of her so firmly that he left bruises on her arms.

Dr. Heiter dragged her around, heading back towards the house. It angered him to think

she had wanted to run away from him, but part of the excitement was in controlling his victims, seeing how much

they could take-or wouldn't take (even if it meant they would disobey him) until they broke down.


	3. Dinner: Chapter 3

Dr. Heiter swept up the shards of broken wine glass, shaking them into the trash can. The microwave beeped and

Dr. Heiter took his meal to the table, sitting down to eat.

The girl was firmly tied in the corner, near the cage.

"What do you want from me?! Please, don't hurt me," she sobbed. Dr. Heiter ignored her. He was still angry with

her and felt like beating her senseless, but he would save that for another day. He was tired.

Heiter stood up from the table, scooting the chair inward, and scooped the remains into the shepherd's dish.

Katsuro waited until Heiter was out of the room.

He watched the dog greedily lapping up the contents in the bowl. He strained his arm through the cage bars as far

as it would go.

The dog lifted his gums and made a silent snapping motion towards Katsuro.

"Nice doggy," Katsuro said in Japanese. His fingers caught on the side of the dish and the dish fell back to the floor

but it was that much closer than it had been. Katsuro tried again. This time he managed to grab it with his thumb

and two fingers. The dog bit at his hand again. Katsuro felt the sting but held tightly onto the bowl until it reached

the bars. His hand was bleeding but he ignored it and greedily shoved his other hand outside to smear the cheesy

delight onto his fingers. There were a few chunks of macaroni left in the bowl. Katsuro paused momentarily before

devouring his snack.

"Sorry." he whispered to the girls behind him. They were equipped with special IVs, designed to flush out their

systems and keep them alive in their unnatural state. They still had to consume (and taste)whatever was digested

in front of them.

After he was done, he dropped the bowl and called the dog softly in Japanese. It started licking the invisible grease

but instead of letting the bowl move around on the floor a bit, the dog set a paw on the edge firmly.

"Noooo!" He wished it were dumber.

Heiter's bare feet padded silently on the wood floor; his dark eyes scanned the room, first the dog licking the empty

bowl in front of the metal cage, then at Katsuro who was in a sleeping position; he at least seemed to be sleeping.

The new girl was sleeping chained up along the wall near the cage. The couch was positioned back to its original

location-parallel to the Siamese twin painting.


	4. Lessons: Ch 4

Dr. Josef Heiter lay on the oversized mahogany bed, thumbing through scratched up credit cards and wadded up

receipts as he flipped through the billfold. His eyes landed on the small, round face and tousle-haired head. Sarah

was the name that was printed on the photo ID-her last name was Jewish; Heiter smirked. But he wasn't much

interested in names. He slipped the picture in with the framed photo of 3-hund on the bedside dresser, tossing the

wallet in the trash bin beside his bed. He stared at the photo then looked back up at the ceiling. It was just past six

when the light of dawn awoke him the next morning. He walked into the kitchen, glancing lazily towards the

Centipede and the girl. The dog was tied beside them; he would have to buy a kennel later. He opened an

overhead cupboard, pouring a glass of wine. He sipped it thoughtfully then looked at his watch. It was a nice day to

be outside. Why not. He might even bring _her_ out; break her in a bit. _Sarah_ was awake and watched Heiter wearily

from across the room.

Heiter hooked a leash to the shepherd's collar. He dropped a handful of biscuits in his coat pocket, then he grabbed

the crop and unchained Sarah. Her eyes

were large; this annoyed Dr. Heiter. She was also silent; _too_ silent.

"Time to go out-_siiiide_!" Heiter said cheerfully, leading them through the living room, then sliding open the back

doors.

"Now," Heiter said, once they were in the backyard.

"This will be a lesson in training which I expect you to obey, or else you shall expect to receive no less than the

strictest punishment I can dish out," Heiter said, the warning obviously was less for the dog's benefit and more for

Sarah's.

"Sit," Heiter commanded in German. He repeated again, tapping the dog lightly on the back with his whip. The dog

looked confused; after hesitating for several moments though, his haunches lowered as if he had heard the

command before. Heiter rewarded him by slipping him a biscuit from his pocket. He tied the shepherd to a bush,

turning his attention to the girl. He wasn't so genial with Sarah.

"Walk," he told her, jerking roughly on the chain leash that was attached to the collar around her neck. She

grudgingly moved in the direction he indicated.

He picked up a hoop which was lying on the ground.

"Over! Let's go!"

Suddenly Sarah stopped.

"I'm Jewish! You picked me because I'm Jewish!" she began to sob, her shoulders shaking with each release. Heiter

bent down, staring Sarah in the eyes.

"Juif, non Juif?" ("Jew or non Jew?") speaking in French so that she could understand. He mocked, laughing softly,

lifting her chin with his fingers.

"You think I care that you're Jewish, you pathetic little wuss?" His lips brushed her ear as he whispered.

"I try not to discriminate," he smiled wryly.

"Walk!" he commanded again. She started sobbing again.

"Help! Help!" She screamed. Heiter raised the whip, his teeth clenching.

"Your shouting will do no good!" he said.

"Cut it out!" he snapped.

His anger began to mount. He raised the crop, striking her on the back. He whipped her several times more, striking

her harder each time; it made a whooshing sound as it moved through the air. She shrieked in pain.

"Help, help! There's a girl here screaming for help," Heiter raised both his hands, as if to make a point to the girl.

"Under zeee shepherd, get under him!" Heiter shoved his boot against her side, forcing her to the ground. The large

dog stood over her, its huge paws resting on her naked chest. He held the dog's leash taut, forcing Sarah to lay

underneath its belly.

"He is the ALPHA DOG! And I am your MASTER! Yeah! Yeah! You filthy, execrable little CREATURE!" Heiter bellowed,

his eyes glared, vain superiority emanating from his gaunt face, as he waved the whip in front of her face.


	5. Bodily Functions: Chapter 5

Dr. Heiter bent down, wrapping the leather collar around her neck, snapping the two ends together. Then he

grabbed the leash attached to the collar and gave it a tug.

''Walk!'' he said roughly, in German.

Her hands and feet were cuffed together just far enough apart so that she could walk(on hands and knees mind

you) but so that she could not get very far, very quickly.

She felt ultimately in the position of inferiority and degredation.

Though she had a determined personality in

times of stress, she was also a bit submissive and easily intimidated. Dr. Heiter had a way of overpowering and

instilling paralyzing fear in people, especially young women.

''Time to go outside!'' said Dr. Heiter, cheerfully, which to him meant going to the bathroom (outside!) Needless to

say, she wasn't looking forward to it, but had no choice. Clumsily she followed behind him. He led her to an area

behind the bushes in the backyard; there was a large area of soil partially dug up (perhaps this was a place that

needed some fertilizing). Dr. Heiter stopped here, looking down at her expectantly and somewhat impatiently. The

problem wasn't that she had to go to the bathroom(which she did); the problem was that he was watching her! She

felt his piercing glare as he stared down at her through sunglasses. His eyes were hidden by the dark lenses, yet

she knew he was staring straight down at her; the distance between him and her was great indeed. He carried the

crop; that more than anything kept her in fear of him.

Dr. Heiter purposefully had left her clothesless (perhaps so that he would not have a mess

to clean). It felt like a good ten minutes while she stood there in silence, too afraid (and embarrassed) to do

anything except shiver in fear while Dr. Heiter stared down at her naked body.

She would soon realize there would be no "embarrassment" in Dr. Heiter's presence: only submission and

degredation. And pain.

"I don't have all dayyy, hurry uupp!" (But of course he practically did have all day, in fact, his day was devoted to

watching and caring for his Pets until his patience grew weary of them) Dr. Heiter was becoming more impatient, to

the point that he raised the crop and struck her lightly, just enough that it almost hurt. She winced in fear and

anxiety.

By this time she really did have to go and she simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

It was not only extremely intimidating but also extremely humiliating to be on all fours, on the verge of emptying her

bowels in front of the good doctor. She glanced over at his foreboding black boots and Nazi-esque labcoat, which

glared in her eyes like the searing light of the sun. First she emptied her bladder, then bowels; it was a bit cruder

than using a toilet-nothing to wipe with and everything expelled between your knees. She tried not to make any

sound but he seemed not to notice(or care) except for the slightly smug expression on his face.


	6. The Master's Dog: Ch 6

Sarah now realized, after many days with Dr. Heiter, that he was no serial killer-nor a rapist.

But he was certainly a pervert-he enjoyed causing pain, suffering, and degredation in the most twisted fashion you could possibly imagine.

Dr. Heiter paged through the perverted print, his large, dark eyes pointed fixedly at the material. He was as focused on it as if he were reading the latest research in the _German Medical Journal_. Then he stopped on a particular section which caught his fancy: "How

to Be in Control in a BDSM Relationship". There were several large differences between the so-called BDSM

relationship and Dr. Heiter's "relationship" with his Pets-while it was a "relationship" of sorts-of Dr. and patient-or was it doctor and victim? (certainly not

romantic)-Dr. Heiter was not only in total control of them, but they had no choice in the matter. They were at once his victims as

well as his "patients" which didnt exactly lend itself to a "kinky romantic relationship" considering the circumstances. Dr. Heiter was at least forty years older than they-he was well into his sixties. All of his "pets"(save the dog) were in their twenties. Like many doctor and patient relationships, the age difference seemed to have the added effect of creating a power imbalance between Dr. Heiter and his "Pets".

Dr. Heiter was far from being any sort of dark and kinky companion, and he didn't think of them as his "fillies"

either(although he found them attractive), which is what made his control over them so powerful.

The book was privately ordered from a company selling adult and alternative material. Dr. Heiter already had a small

personal collection of "BDSM" -related material, which he occassionally read on "rainy days" (when he wasn't

reading his medical journals). However, he felt he needed something more specific to the situation at hand. While

he was naturally good at manipulation and degredation, it couldn't hurt to take a look at the material. If nothing

else, it would at least give him some ideas.

Sarah had a small and casual interest in "BDSM"-not in practice but in principle. She had never been in a sexual "relationship" with any man, nor experienced BDSM first

hand. She was unaware Dr. Heiter himself enjoyed elements of the practice and unfortunately for her, she was on the receiving end of his "interests". It was almost too much to

process. At times she felt as though she were attracted to Dr. Heiter, not in a "boyfriend" sort of way but a vague sexually/romantic/emotionally-excited type of feeling.

And unfortunately for her, Dr. Heiter was uninterested in what she or the others thought or felt; he cared only of his own feelings.

One night she was crying. She felt guilty for the people she had left behind, guilty that she could not find a way to escape, guilty she had allowed such a man to take control of her body and mind. She felt her mind and self was merely floating in some vague area of time and space; a disembodied and helpless version of her real self. Her sobs became louder and she was crying with such force now that she nearly choked on her own saliva.

"Vill you STOP IT!" Heiter banged the table with his fist, slamming the pages of the book closed. Sarah jerked in fear and, at least momentarily, her sobbing quieted.

Dr. Heiter bent over her, almost on his hands and knees.

Dr. Heiter's voice lowered and his gaze met her directly.

"You are VERY annoyiiiing-if you don't be quiet I vill cut you up and feed you to zee dog" he whispered, frowning at her.

Suddenly she thought of the troubled relationship she had had with her parents-especially her father. She saw similiarities and it made her feel guilty. But she

suddenly felt very attracted to Dr. Heiter.

She had him where she wanted him; he was indeed beautiful, yes, beautiful. A man who is so handsome is worthy

of such a term. He had a chiseled face, but his features were not overly-large, and the lines in his face told you he

was rather mature. His eyes were large for an older man, with long, dark eyelashes, and his eyebrows were rather

arched. He had a rose-bud mouth and an aquiline nose. He was "severely handsome"; he would make a good

vampire...if he wasn't this hard, cruel man in a white labcoat, hovering over her.

She closed her eyes, leaning forward quickly, her head aiming somewhere in the direction of DR. Heiter's face. She

let her body fall towards him. She felt her mouth pressing against the soft flesh of his mouth and felt the smooth

skin, recently shaved, press into her own. She could smell the shaving cream and perhaps something that smelled

like perfume. She had never kissed anyone(or been kissed) and she didn't expect it to be this intense. She wasn't

sure whether it was because she really was attracted to him, or if it was because she was reacting to the

phenomenon known as "identification with the aggressor". Or both. Perhaps this was an unconscious attempt at

appeasing him. If it was, it didn't work.

Immediately she felt a rush intense emotion shuddering through her entire body, but this feeling

was quickly crushed by the force of DR. Heiter's hands as he shoved her roughly back, causing her to hit the floor. He would

not allow himself to appear on the receiving end of her attraction. He must always appear to be in control not only

of himself but of her.

"I'm not in zee position to play games!" he snapped, standing up, and unconsciously wiped his mouth where her lips had touched. She winced at his angry voice. Then she began to sob again.

"Why are you doing this?!"

The next morning...

Dr. Heiter set a bowl of kibble down in front of Sarah. He topped it with a doggy biscuit. Yum yum. It was breakfast

and desert at once.

"Enjoy your meal," said Dr. Heiter, gloating at his own cleverness. He left the room. The shepherd got up from his

place underneath the kitchen table and

began to wander slowly towards Sarah direction. He seemed to sense Sarah's inferior position on the living room

floor.

The dog had been fed already, but still felt hungry-an all-consuming instinct to devour whatever he could find.

Sarah was having difficulty deciding whether to eat the gritty dog mush or not-she knew she probably wouldn't be

offered anything else and she was starving. It didn't look or smell appetizing.

The shepherd put his nose to the floor and kept a watchful eye on the food as he meandered his way towards

Sarah.

Sarah saw him nearing her and decided she should at least try to eat some of it. She put her mouth in the bowl,

closing her lips around a chunk of the grainy mush. It was bland. She rolled it around in her mouth, feeling it with

her tongue.

The dog came nearer; he was now within a couple of feet of her. He lowered his head; his lips quivered. Sarah

looked up at him.

"It's mine!" Sarah said. She tried to grab the bowl with her bound hands but the dog snapped and growled. He

seemed to have no concept of what belonged to others. Sarah tried to grab the bowl again but the large dog

seemed to snap.

The shepherd was now on top of her; Sarah tried pushing him away but couldn't. His teeth sliced at her face and

arms.

Dr. Heiter heard the noise and rushed down the hallway and into the livingroom. He was over the dog and Sarah in

seconds.

"Get off!" He commanded the shepherd, grabbing its collar and dragging him off her.

"Sit down!" Dr. Heiter yelled at the dog. Sarah was curled up in a fetal position(at least as much as the restraints

allowed her to be) and her nose and the side of her face had some deep bite marks; her arms were also scratched from

the dog's uncut toenails as she had struggled to shove him away. Dr. Heiter examined the situation, staring at her with a distant look in his eyes, standing above her. Some vague and heavy sounds esaped Sarah's lips as she shivered in fear and pain.

"uhhh,"

Dr. Heiter grabbed her, turning her over on her back.

"Don't _MOVE_," said Dr. Heiter. He made a few quick dabs at the deepest bite marks with a damp cloth. Then he applied some dabs of Neosporin, and wrapped a section of gauze around her arm and

Dr. Heiter began tearing pieces of surgical tape from a spool and wrapping them around the gauze. Sarah winced slightly but tried holding back her pain. She uncurled and looked up at Dr. Heiter, watching his hands at he wrapped her injuries. He seemed to enjoy playing "doctor", as the behaviors he learned in med school that came with being a doctor were always second nature and never really went away. If not for the empathy and compassion, it was enjoyable for the authoritative role that accompanied being a doctor.

"You should heal fine, the shepherd didn't cut too deeply. You von't need stitches," said Dr. Heiter bluntly.

A second cage stood in the livingroom, beside the Centipede trios'. Dr. Heiter had went out to purchase it the other afternoon, after the dog had attacked Sarah.

It may come in handy. For her or the dog. Sarah still winced in pain from the attack. Dr. Heiter had changed her bandages once. Her cuts were still bleeding but had let up some.


	7. Incite and Insight: Chapter 7

Dr. Heiter walked into the livingroom, drying both his hands methodically then set the towel down on the side of the couch.

"How are my Pets? Yooo in particularrr are my "pet" peeve..." said Dr. Heiter, slowly walking towards Sarah, who lay half-sitting, half-laying on the hard floor. Sarah of course, understood none of what he was saying. She relied on his mannerisms, which at times could be difficult to decipher, while other times it was all-too easy. It was also difficult to know when Dr. Heiter would seem to "snap" in a fit of rage. It was his way of maintaining control over her.

Sarah´s mouth turned down at the corners in a sort of sad but uncertain way.

He picked up a wine glass sitting on the coffee table and his lips pursed to take a sip.

"Your parents must have hurt you when you were a kid," said Sarah bluntly in her native French tongue. A few daring tears streamed down her face, perhaps a subconscious attempt at appeasing him and breaking through his impossibly obscure exterior. It was an effort in futility.

The wine glass hesitated ever so slightly, but Dr. Heiter finished swallowing.

Dr. Heiter had understood most of what she said, but he gave little outward indication that he had.

"I think you're a Nazi," Sarah continued. Her voice whispered but then gained strength.

"Nazi! Nazi Nazi!" Her voice raised a notch higher.

"Naz-" Sarah stopped in mid-sentence, choking back a wave of fear that washed over her as Dr. Heiter turned to look at her, expressionless. His large black eyes seemed to burn with a color and glint as deep as the glowing ebony of burning coal in the bottom of Hell.

Then a slight smirk formed at the corner of his red, but rose bud-like mouth, and Dr. Heiter bit the side of his cheek slightly. He stared with the same curious expression he had had as he decided how to punish Lindsay, Jennie, and Katsuro after they had first tried escaping from the pool. It was exhilarating and empowering, and even sexually exciting.

The expression quickly disappeared.

"You're bothersome." Dr. Heiter turned to look at her; Sarah couldn't tell if he was angry or just very serious.

Then suddenly Dr. Heiter slammed the wine glass onto the floor, the contents splashed across the polished surface. Sarah jumped, feeling as though her body had leaped two feet off the ground.

"In! Get in the cage!" Dr. Heiter rushed towards her, grabbing the whip. He grabbed her hair, alternately striking her face and arms with his hands, and bringing the whip down to her naked flesh.

"Yeahhhhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yesss!" Dr. Heiter yelled.

She scrambled into the cage on hands and knees, screaming and crying as Dr. Heiter physically assaulted her.

She put her arms and elbows up in defense, but it did little to protect her-Dr. Heiter was too strong and big.

"Are yoo a Vild animalll?" hollered Dr. Heiter.

"You little vild animal! You need to be broken!" He slammed the cage door, swiftly snapping it shut and locking it.

"Soon enough!" he frowned, peering into the front of the cage. He tapped the whip on the outside of the cage, light sweat glistening his forehead. He picked up a piece of broken glass, tossing it roughly into the trashcan as he went into the kitchen.

Sarah rarely felt like sleeping-Dr. Heiter made her constantly wary of losing a hold of her vigilance. Neverheless, she found herself slipping into the land of sleep.

Sarah felt herself experiencing a dream-a dream that was as disturbing as it was sensual. The dream was also disturbingly vivid. It involved Dr. Heiter. Although it was her dream(and not Dr. Heiter's), Sarah couldn't help but feel as though it was a message-some sort of signal that was meant to give her insight into Dr. Heiter's mindset.

The beginning of the dream began with Sarah looking down into the depths of a pool. It seemed to be no particular pool. Just a pool. She saw large glass windows on one end of the room, and high plain white walls stretching up to a high ceiling. There were large words spawled across the side of the pool on the floor.

"No Diving" it read. Then the image changed and Sarah could clearly see that she was inside Dr. Heiter's pool room; she could see the Greek painting on one wall and the large shining mirrors on the other end, reflecting the room.

The sequence changed again-to Dr. Heiter proverbially "banging" the Centipede-the back of the trio no doubt. Then the dream switched again to Sarah. Dr. Heiter was touching her. It was sex, yet it wasn't. Dr. Heiter was playing with her-with himself. Sarah sensed the overt as well as covert sexual nature of it-it was supposed to be "sex", yet somehow it wasn´t quite. He was fondling her more than any real sex. In any case, she felt herself very aroused. Sarah felt him put himself against her and "play" with her, and she felt an intense rush of pleasure. She felt his member slipping underneath her and pressing against her sweet spot above her legs. It was flacid and malleable to her body, like some sort of toy. It was perfect.

Sarah felt him very clearly-and she enjoyed it too. It was as if he were showing her how to "do it" with him and proving to her that he could do it. He was behind her. And he was in full control of her-she felt his body, his hands, and his hips. The feeling of him pressing into her gave her a wave and sharp feeling of sensual pleasure like nothing else. And everything that seemed powerful about him and the way he controlled her, seemed to be concluded in the feelings that moment. Her feelings for him were wanton but knew that what was happening then was a result of his continuing power over her, and she was sharply aware of the mental divide between them; the _power divide. Surely the age difference between them accounted for a lot of that-she was in early twenties and he-he was at least in his fifties, maybe even closer to sixty something. And he was a surgeon-well he was one until he retired and took up piecing together Centipedes instead. He had an odd calculating way of staring at you and a tense look about his whole body and hands, even shaky a bit, like the polar opposite of his mannerisms in the operating room-there he was calm, relaxed, posed even under pressure._

_When he was tensely posed like this, he had a distant look in his eyes, as if he weren´t even there that moment, or he was daydreaming, daydreaming of things so violent or sensual-so intense that he could not help but separate himself from the reality of the moment. _

_Men and women noticed this peculiar behavior, but when he did it to a woman, it gave her the feeling that somehow he were sexually repressed and much like a serial killer or rapist. Those nasty feelings came out in him like some sort of power-mad man and always gave him the appearance of seeming either apathetic or angry. He had given Lindsey and Jenny this "death-glare" once as they sat on his living room couch, sipping tainted water. That was after Lindsey had asked if he was ever married and Dr. Heiter then sat up from his daydream upon the couch across from them. Their very presence, their high dainty voices, their femininity bothered him but also stimulated his mind. Their feminine(and weak) presence was right there, dancing right into his daydream, he allowed them to be part of his fantasy, and he could not help but think he wished he were doing things with them right that instant. These girls were merely aids to his fantasy, but they were perfect. They were more than aids-somehow their presence was like a sign from God telling him they were the missing pieces to his fantasy puzzle. And they fit his fantasy to a tee. He had them under his control and he knew much about them too from having confiscated their purses and passports._

_It angered him to think such a naïve female could bother to pry into his life, asking him unnecessary questions about his life, his mind-a mind she could never possibly know._

_In essence, Dr. Heiter was a psychopath. _

_One wondered why he was even like this, perhaps it was some part of him that had emerged after having been a surgeon for so many years, or maybe it had been there all along and being a surgeon had nothing to do with it. As a surgeon, he was not good at appearing compassionate, he performed his job with distance, coldness and apathy and tried separating his emotions from the parents of the children he was separating. He never had a fondness for the hundreds of Siamese children he had separated; he was merely interested in the medical aspects of them. As a young man, he was good at hiding feelings of frustration and anger in botched surgeries or complications, but as the years wore on these vague feelings became stronger and he found himself developing new feelings, feelings of Power, and even omnipotence about the world. His anger and feelings of isolation from the world of people grew, realizing he must be different from others only made him angrier at humanity. He still loved surgery and medicine, but he felt aware of his isolation even in that aspect of his life and even in knowing that he was famous. Famous to whom? To noone he cared about and noone that cared about him. Only his hands loved him, only his surgical tools. _

_She wondered why this was happening and why she even felt these things about him. But then the familiar feeling of creeping consciousness at the borderline between dreaming and sleep and wakefulness began to fill her mind, then she was fully awake now with her mouth and one side of her face pressed into the hard wood floor and a bit of saliva from her mouth moistened the floor beneath the cage. At one moment, she felt herself thinking why the dream had to end and wishing that what had just happened in her dream was reality, but it wasn´t so. The reality of her situation hit her again when she realized it had only been a dream._

_Sarah opened her eyes, now having thought about her dream, she was fully awake but still very tired. The sensual nature of the dream (especially because it involved Dr. Heiter) must have jolted her conciousness. She blinked, trying to brush away the sleepy feeling from her eyes as well as the fog that still enveloped her mind. The lights in the livingroom were turned down low, and she could see the fire in the hearth cracking softly. Its light jumped across the room, along with the shadows. Sarah realized it must still be nighttime or perhaps early morning, too early for the sun to be up, and too early for Dr. Heiter to be either. That was good, for now._

_Dr. Heiter wasn't there. He must have gone to bed. Gone to bed. Suddenly she remembered an image from her dream and it jumped out at her. An image of herself inside Dr. Heiter's bedroom-and on his over-sized bed which she had seen once. Dr. Heiter. Sex(or something like it). Dr. Heiter's bed. Sarah shivered the thought away._


	8. Grumpy, Sleepy & Bashful: Ch 8

Grumpy, Sleepy & Bashful: Ch 8

It was four-thirty in the morning. Dr. Heiter appeared in the entry of the livingroom in his bathrobe. He didn't look very happy. You could say he was grouchy. Perhaps more

than a little grouchy.

Dr. Heiter almost always looked "grumpy" in a manner of speaking, unless he felt particularly pleased with something that happened or something he had done. Maybe it

was just the way that he looked-serious. Maybe because it was so early.

This morning(if you could call it morning) though, he seemed especially testy. He shuffled through the livingroom, stopping momentarily at the cages.

"Good Morrrrning, my detestable pets!"

He made a scowling expression at them, then he moved on towards the kitchen, his bare feet dragging on the floor.

Dr. Heiter began moving dishes around in the sink, then placing them in the dishwasher. Suddenly there was a crackling sound of glass breaking, followed by a curse.

"Now look! I am down to SEVENNN vine glasses-thanks to yoooo!" His deep voice carried throughout the room. Heiter slammed the dishwasher closed. The washer

began to make a swishing and bubbling sound as it started the wash.

Dr. Heiter walked back into the livingroom, sitting heavily on the couch.

"I don't know how I can do this-I'm getting too old, I need a maid. Someone who knows ven to shut uppp and do zee vork." Dr. Heiter mumbled to himself.

Dr. Heiter opened the cage door. He grabbed her collar, hooking a leash to her and leading her from the livingroom down the hallway. He turned into the pool room. Sarah

had seen the pool room once briefly when she had tried escaping after she had been caught in the kitchen.

Dr. Heiter slipped off his bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor. He had nothing on underneath. It shocked Sarah, she would have thought he would have something under there.

But no-Dr. Heiter was naked as an animal.

Sarah could clearly see his profile-his male genitalia and his buttocks.

Sarah wasn't threatened by him (he was no rapist) but his nakedness was rather unnerving. She liked him better with clothes on, somehow clothes created a kind of

unspoken barrier-social barrier.

Sarah was suddenly very embarrassed and self-conscious and immediately she thought of the dreams she had had a couple of evenings ago.

Dr. Heiter glanced at her quickly, his eyes seemed to twinkle very slightly and his expression was smug as if he was very aware of her embarrassment, yet he did not care.

Sarah averted her eyes quickly.

Dr. Heiter went to the edge of the pool, slipping one leg in, then the other and steadying himself as he maneuvered his body into the warm water. Sarah glanced up at him

again quickly, with a wary look in her eyes.

Sarah began shivering, she didn't know whether it was because she was slightly chilled or because she was anxious. She was naked too. And tethered to the wall.

Dr. Heiter made several laps back and forth across the pool-he did this at least twice a day. It was good to exercise and it was also relaxing. He climbed out of the pool.

"Deja vu," Heiter mumbled.

.

"This time though, I won't expect anyone to be escaping my presence."

Dr. Heiter bent down, picking up his bathrobe and slipping it back on.

"Don't be nervousss little vun-the human body is like a sculpture-only a thing of beauty. That's only my opinion though. I am a doctor you know..." Dr. Heiter walked over

to her, grabbing her chin and winking at her.


End file.
